Treat
As a rookie in the Atlantic City, N.J., Police department, I was assigned a beat on the boardwalk. Hardly a day went by when I didn't come upon a child who had become separated from his parents. ~!!>`x 2;`"B|-T One afternoon, I spotted a small boy standing alone, obviously lost. I tried to gain his confidence - I took him to the nearest ice-cream stand and bought him a cone. Time passed with no sign of the boy's parents, so the next step was to call for a patrol car to take him to headquarters. I told the small fry to stay put while I went to the call box. When I returned, he was nowhere in sight. U<
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b_ | 0Fh*8a}?b Within minutes, the car arrived, and one of the patrolmen asked me where the child was. I felt stupid; it's humiliating to say you've lost a lost child. But I told the officers what had happened and gave a description of the boy. "What did you treat him?" asked one of the men. 8EPV\M1% 1XO*yZF "An ice-cream cone. Why?" VQvl
,'z ?%h JZm; "Because," answered the officer, "that kid lives only a few blocks from here, and you've about the fifth rookie he's conned for a treat!" Yn}_"FO' 9c=_p'G3Fw
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